


Five Minutes

by Selkit



Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic
Genre: Female Friendship, Gen, Misses Clause Challenge, Yuletide 2014
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-20
Updated: 2014-12-20
Packaged: 2018-03-02 11:00:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2809874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Selkit/pseuds/Selkit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In Imperial Intelligence, every moment counts...even the ones that seem the most uneventful.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five Minutes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Capella](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Capella/gifts).



“Watcher Two?”

The algorithm on her holo terminal wasn’t yet finished running, but Watcher Two turned toward the voice anyway, the calculation still playing out in her head. In her peripheral vision she noticed Watcher Five leaning over a terminal with a perplexed expression on his face, and a gentle pinging alert sounded from another computer across the room. She jotted down each mental note, quicker than snapping her fingers, the internal to-do list completed before she finished turning around.

Imperial Intelligence had little use for an asset incapable of multitasking, after all.

“Can I help you, Cipher Nine?” she asked, settling into a pose no military commander could have faulted. Her feet spread just slightly, her hands settled into place at the small of her back, and one eyebrow tilted up at an angle precise enough to convey openness yet discourage time-wasting.

The other woman didn’t seem fazed. Cipher Nine’s own body language tended to hover somewhere between professional and casual, and no one ever seemed to object—a privilege Watcher Two might have envied, if she ever found herself with the time or inclination for such frivolity. 

“I was just wondering if you have a moment to talk,” Cipher Nine said. Her eyes widened, just a little, lending a relaxed effect to her face. The change would have been nearly imperceptible to a normal human. “But if this is a bad time, I can always come back.”

Watcher Two’s eyebrow inched higher. “You aren’t here with questions about the mission, I take it.”

“There’s no fooling you, is there?” The Cipher’s lips twitched. Even in the most cursory analysis, it was easy to see why she was such a successful field agent. Every facet of her, from expression to posture, was a calculated gesture meant to put her target at ease—but Watcher Two was no ordinary subject.

“Cipher,” she said, and allowed herself a single step forward, though her spine remained straight and her hands stayed tucked behind her back. “I am always available to discuss items of mission-related importance, but our work allows very little time for idle personal chatter. As I believe you well know.”

“I do,” the agent said, and a sudden, low note of melancholy wove its way through her tone. “But I doubt the Empire will grind to a halt if we take, say, five minutes to have a normal conversation.” She bit her lip, and despite years of training and experience in manipulation and deception, everything about her wistfulness appeared genuine to Watcher Two’s keen eye. “It feels like it’s been an eternity since I actually _had_ a normal conversation.”

“The Empire very well _could_ grind to a halt, or worse, in five minutes,” Watcher Two said. Five minutes could hold a terrorist attack on any one of a thousand worlds, a mad Sith Lord’s power play, a calculated strike from the Republic. She and Cipher Nine alike both knew that all too well. 

“However,” she continued, “it is no secret that occasional short breaks can help the mind to rejuvenate and return to the task at hand with renewed focus. Also,” she added, letting a hint of a wry smile cross her face, “I have the distinct impression that you have no intention of leaving this room until you’ve had your ‘normal conversation.’ So. Ask your questions, but I do have to insist on a limit of five minutes.”

“Five minutes it is, then.” Cipher Nine grinned and hefted her datapad. “Shall I set a timer?”

“No need.” Watcher Two tapped her index finger against her forehead.

“Of course.” A hint of resignation slipped into the Cipher’s voice, but her expression remained undimmed. “All right. This is most likely an absurd question given the battle it took just to get you to take a break, but I’ve been wondering: if you ever had a day off—one full day, all to yourself—how do you think you would spend it?” 

“An entire day?” Watcher Two frowned. “I would spend it catching up on work I can do out of headquarters, I suppose.”

Cipher Nine pressed the back of her hand to her forehead, exasperation flickering on her face. “ _Normal_ conversation, remember? No work allowed.”

Watcher Two smiled. It was an unusual expression in her line of work, but welcome all the same.

“You forget, Cipher,” she said, “work _is_ normal for me. This is the reason behind the physical and mental engineering and conditioning. My purpose is to keep the Empire and its people safe, by working long hours for days on end as necessary. When that is your calling, what need is there for leisure?”

“I understand,” Cipher Nine said quietly, and a brief shadow crossed her face, like a holocar flying by an open window and blotting out the sun. “And I know the work we do is important. But…don’t you ever wonder? What it might be like to be one of _them_?”

She spread one hand in a shallow arc, encompassing all the Dromund Kaas citizens going about their daily lives, working and playing and living, blissfully unaware of the sacrifices made behind the scenes to keep them safe.

Watcher Two took a deep breath. “I—”

“Oh, I already know what you’re going to say.” Cipher Nine rolled her eyes, but her smile was fond. “Just indulge me? Make something up, if you have to.”

“Very well.” Watcher Two finally let her arms relax, swinging gently by her sides. “Though I don’t imagine I would do anything terribly exciting. Read a book, perhaps? Something with a story, not a training manual or an intelligence dossier. And I would eat a good meal. Nothing too fancy and wasteful, but something more appetizing than the rations here at headquarters. I don’t suppose I would interact with too many people. More likely, I would just take the time for myself.”

“I can empathize with that,” Cipher Nine said with a laugh. “I often need a few hours to myself to recharge at the end of the day, especially given the types of people I typically deal with.” She shot a sly, over-the-shoulder glance at her Rattataki companion, who snorted.

“All right, now it’s your turn,” Watcher Two said, raising an eyebrow. “What would _you_ do, if you had the chance to be…normal?” 

“You want to know?” The Cipher blinked, split-second surprise flashing across her face before she recovered. “How much of our five minutes is left?”

“Enough,” Watcher Two said. “Especially since I didn’t take up that much time. I’m sure you have more interesting ideas in mind than I do. Go ahead.”

Cipher Nine grinned and took a deep breath. Her eyes went distant as she spoke, but her voice was warm and tinged with something like contentment. It was, Watcher Two reflected as she listened, an unusually pleasant sound.

“Well, I could go on,” the Cipher said as she wound down, her mouth tilting up in a half-smile. “But I’m _certain_ we’re out of time by now.”

Watcher Two cleared her throat. “It’s been six minutes and fourteen seconds.”

“Has it really?” For a moment the Cipher looked taken aback, and then a slow, almost delighted smile spread across her face. “In that case, I’ll let you get back to work. But…thank you, Watcher Two.”

“The pleasure was all mine,” Watcher Two said.

And she found, to her surprise, that she was telling the truth.


End file.
